Afterlife: The Tail of a Curious Cat
by Rayniekinnz
Summary: 'What exactly happens after The End? Well. You'll just have to read, won't you.' Sequel to 'Curiosity Killed The Cat'. LM/HP. ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
1. Intro

**Summary**: 'What exactly happens after 'The End'? Well. You'll just have to read, won't you?'|  
><strong>Pairings**: Lucius/Harry.  
><strong>Category<strong>: Romance/Drama/Hurt&Comfort  
><strong>Warningstags**: Slash. Adult Content: Lemons/Limes. Language. Possible MPreg. AU/AR – No Voldemort. OOC.

**A/N:**  
><strong>The most popular choice was 'After The Epilogue' so you'll get to see exactly what happens after 'The End'. This will have a lot more slashy-goodness and maybe MPreg - who knows?<strong>

**Reviews, follows and favourites are always appreciated. Have an idea for a date or situation they might face? Let me know!**

**EDIT: I've decided this will follow the prequel's lead and be more of a drabblefic since that's how I write this series best. **

* * *

><p><strong>Afterlife: The Tail of a Curious Cat<br>****Chapter One: Intro**

To say the shop-keeper was surprised to have Lucius Bloody Malfoy buy his third Werecat would be an understatement. He hadn't even had the time to advertise the stupid thing before the Lord was stalking in, tossing exactly six hundred galleons onto the counter and stalking out with his newly-acquired companion purring like the bloody Hogwarts Express around his neck.

It was a strange situations considering his wife has just tried to get rid of the beast, but he supposed he couldn't complain. He had just made enough money to buy one of those lovely pixies from across the street…

It was a quiet journey home, Lucius practically buzzing with questions. He was angry and hurt, but also resigned to the fact that he had no control over how Harry had handled the situation. He did, however, have a say in what exactly would happen next.

Walking swiftly through the Manor, he headed for his study after dropping off Valentine in the kitchen for some food. The not-quite-so-clingy werecat went without a fuss, slinking away with barely a look back. Gently shutting the door and locking it with a nonverbal spell, he shucked his thicker over-robes and set Tem—_Harry_ on the couch before sinking elegantly into his chair.

"Change back," he said coldly, wand in hand.

The werecat hesitated for a moment before the air crackled with magic and a boy sat in its place instead. Dressed in simple slacks and a cotton tunic, Harry Potter was as handsome as ever. He had filled out a bit since their last encounter, body still athletic despite not playing Quidditch so frequently and hair more tame than he remembered. He had lost the glasses, eerie green eyes staring anxiously at him from across the room.

Folding his hands, Lucius appraised him silently. Finally, in a commanding voice he said: "Well? Explain yourself."

Harry frowned at him, mind visibly working. His hand twitched where it rested on his thigh and he sighed, dropping his eyes and looking off to the side. "I'm sorry…"

"You're sorry?" the Lord raised his eyebrows. While an apology was nice, he didn't think it was warranted.

"For leaving…for not contacting you," he clarified. "I didn't know what to do – not for a while…I made plans, but I didn't want to come to you until I was sure…"

"Oh? And what could I possibly offer you that is so important?"

"Love," Harry said, not quite meeting his eyes. "Companionship. Friendship. Marriage."

"You want to…be with me?" Lucius said flatly, mind whirling. It was certainly a pleasant idea, but...

"If you'll have me."

"And what of your family? Your friends?"

"What about them?"

"Do they not have any objections to this?"

Squirming, Harry fiddled with his trousers. "I, er, haven't told them…"

"Really."

"Not my parents, anyway," Harry continued, scowling under his disbelieving stare. "Remus knows…and so does Luna…but Luna knows everything."

Lucius wasn't quite sure how to respond. While he had appreciated the irony of finding Harry in his not-so-new form in that disgusting shop, exactly three years after the first time, he didn't think recreating the whole bloody scenario was a very good idea.

"…what?" Harry asked, looking a bit defensive. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

In a slow, drawling voice that expressed just how much he thought of Harry at that moment he said, "Mr Potter, I like to think of myself as an observant man. Perhaps even intelligent. Because of this, I like to think about how my actions affect my future – finding Harry Potter in _my_ house without his parents' knowledge and without any luggage is every Aurors dream."

Harry looked a bit disbelieving at the 'affect my future' part – was being a Death Eater not dangerous to his future? Bastard – but paled considerably towards the end. He scowled a second later, jumping to his feet and pointing rather rudely at the unimpressed Lord. "I'm not _stupid_, okay! I know how bad this could look!"

"Then why, pray tell, did you risk it?"

Faltering, Harry stared at him with wide eyes; looking very much like a deer caught in the headlights. Slowly, he sat down again. "…you don't think it's worth the risk?"

Quirking a pale brow, Lucius appraised the nineteen-year-old silently. Sure, he had grown attached to the idiot in their time spent together, but that was _Tempest_. How did he know starting a relationship with Harry would be for the best? And then there was the fact that it had been three years since having any contact. He was starting to think he shouldn't have been too hasty with wanting to…_punish_ his 'pet'.

"Whether or not I think it's worth the risk is beside the point. You're a rather reckless creature, aren't you? I don't know you and you don't know me. What if this ended badly? Then there's the authorities. They caught the group that cursed you, but what would they think if they learned I had _bought_ you in '96?"

"Is that all that matters, your reputation?" Harry hissed, feeling hurt and a bit like this had been a waste of time after all.

"You're also quite a bit younger than me – it shows, physically and mentally. It is not _my_ reputation I'm worried about, boy. How would my family be affected if there were stories going around of me being involved in human-trafficking? How would yours? It is not always about me, just the way it isn't always about you."

"I'm not a child!"

"You're not listening!" Lucius hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Merlin, boy! Did you think of anything but your…_interest_ in me?"

"It's not as if I just randomly decided to get up and be with you!" Harry protested, standing and stomping towards the desk. "I've thought this through, I have! I didn't tell my friends or family because—because you _know_ how they'd react! With screaming and 'go to your room!' and they'd never let me out again! I wasn't sure if this would work…if we'd even give it a go and I wanted to be sure….I want you, Lucius Malfoy."

"Why?"

It was a simple question. Flat but not rude, merely…inquiring. Harry could only stare at him in wonder for a moment before shaking his head and smiling in a watery kind of way. "Fishing for compliments?"

"Like I said, I don't know you and you don't know me. What could possibly attract you to me, based on outside-appearances? You've only dated girls in the past or so I've heard, you most likely think all purebloods are stuck up their own arses and you have no need for my fortune because you have your own. Why would a bright-eyed, _spoiled_ child fresh from Hogwarts want _me_, a middle-aged Ministry official who apparently needs to take more care in choosing pets?"

This was his chance and Harry knew if he said the wrong thing it'd all be done. Lucius' patience was wearing thin and though he was annoyed at how condescending the man was being, he really didn't want to blow his chance.

Forcing himself to meet stormy-grey eyes, he said in the steadiest voice he could muster: "I don't know you, and you don't know me…but I _want_ to get to know you. If this doesn't work out then…well, it didn't work out. I want to be able to say I gave it a shot, though."

Piercing eyes searched his expression, settling on his lips for longer than absolutely polite before lifting up to meet his anxious gaze. The reply was simple, but it erased all doubts in his mind – at least for then.

"Alright."

* * *

><p>Lucius had only been with him long enough to show him to a guest-bedroom before disappearing, but he wasn't too bothered. This <em>was<em> quite sudden and he'd also need a quiet moment to think. The room was pretty and extravagant, if not a little…cool. The paintings didn't move, mostly landscapes, but he didn't dare think some dead relative of Lucius' couldn't randomly pop up while he was wanking or something.

The walls were a soft cream, the furniture and bedframe in a dark-wood he couldn't name. The canopy and curtains were in an emerald green, bed at least a king with a ridiculously soft blanket folded at the bottom. The en-suite bathroom was much the same as Draco and Lucius' though smaller and the cabinets were empty of personal items such as hair-removal potions and toothbrushes.

At a little past nine he finally gave up on the arsehole showing up to talk or _something_ and got ready for bed. He was borrowing Draco's pyjamas since he had nothing with him except his vault key and wand, but he supposed his maybe-sorta friend wouldn't mind _too_ much. After slipping into his designated bedclothes, he dimmed the lights and curled up in the bed.

He still couldn't tell if this had been the best of ideas, but he had already gone for it and he was an 'all or nothing' sort of guy. Burrowing into the feather pillows, he inhaled the lingering scent of ice and…vanilla.

Smiling, he had no trouble falling asleep that night. He was home.

**TBC…**


	2. The Talk I

**Chapter Two: The Talk I**

Harry awoke to the feeling of someone watching him. Very slowly, he opened his eyes and seeing nothing, blinked the sleep from his eyes and clumsily dragged the hair away from his face. It couldn't have been that late since the sun streaming through his windows was pretty muted, so he guessed it was a little after seven. Yawning, he turned over and was immediately caught up in inhumanly bright eyes.

"FUCK!" he screamed, flailing backwards and just catching himself on the edge of the bed. His heart threatened to jump from his chest, breath stuck in his throat and limbs shaky from shock.

Valentine appraised him with half-lidded eyes, face unreadable. He didn't look much different than the last time Harry had seen him, though he supposed that was a Werecat thing. He was still extremely thin, the too-big shirt – one of Lucius' he assumed as it reached his thighs and was made of a particularly nice material – practically hanging off his shoulders and hair falling past his shoulders in dark curls. He tilted his head to the side, eyebrows rising lightly in a pseudo-confused expression.

"Hullo, Harry."

"Did you _have_ to do that?" Harry said weakly, shuffling back to his original space and rubbing his forehead. He suddenly had a headache.

"It's not my fault you scare easy."

Rolling his eyes, Harry flopped back down and pulled the duvet over his head to block out the light. "What do you want, Valentine?" he asked tiredly, half knowing what was to come and half genuinely curious as to the answer.

"I was just wondering what you're doing with _my_ owner."

A short silence ensued in which Harry enjoyed the familiarity of the cool, childishly angry tone. He liked the kitty, despite everything, and had missed him on his travels. He pulled the blanket back a bit, peeking up at the impatiently waiting pseudo-human. "What do you _think_ I'm doing with him?"

"Well, I'm not very familiar with in the Wizarding way of…mating, I guess…but you want to have his children?"

The silence that followed was not one of inquisitive humour.

Harry honestly didn't know how to reply. He wanted to laugh, but the serious look on Valentine's face had him backing up and actually thinking about it. He supposed it would nice to have children in general, but _with_ Lucius? His and Lucius' _biological_ children?

Well, judging by the warm fluttery feeling in his stomach, he didn't mind that idea as much as he should have. Male pregnancy was, of course, virtually unheard of and the thought of going through that was not appealing but the end-result however…now _that_ was nice.

Unless the child inherited the Potter Hair. That would a disaster.

Blinking owlishly, Harry fumbled for a response. "Well I—I mean…yes?"

Raising an eyebrow in a way that was _purely_ Lucius, Valentine said, "So you'll become his…wife?"

"I guess…"

"Alright then." The werecat seemed appeased, expression softening and body relaxing as if he had been holding his breath.

"You don't mind?" Harry asked, somewhat hesitant. He didn't want Valentine to feel insecure in his position as Lucius favourite pet – as ridiculous and demeaning as it sounded, it obviously meant a lot to him.

"Not really," Valentine said importantly, raising his chin defiantly. "Don't expect me to give up my spot on the bed, though. You'll just have to make your own space."

"Right," Harry said, amused. "I'll be sure to do that. What time is it, anyway?"

"Early still," the creature replied unconcernedly. "Master is probably getting up around now…"

"Do you call him that to his face?" he said, frowning. He hadn't addressed it those years ago, but now when he could hear it still in use it was a bit disturbing.

"What, 'Master'? Of course not. Kitten told me not to – he said it was inappropriate or something. I don't see how, but he knows lots…"

"'Kitten'? Draco?" Harry said, surprised. "He knows about you?"

"Of course he does!" Valentine exclaimed, scandalised. "I stay in his room when he's home, you know. But only when Master works late."

Pushing away the duvet, Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed and headed for the en-suite bathroom. "Does he work late a lot?" he asked distractedly, keeping the door open.

"Hmm," Valentine shrugged, leaning up against and pressing his cheek to the door-jam. He watched him in a distinctively cat-like way, eyes half-lidded and expression one of disinterest.

Harry ignored him for the most part, absently checking himself in the mirror before opening the new toothbrush found in the cabinet and brushing the gross morning-breath taste from his mouth. The minty toothpaste was a lot stronger than his preferred brand, making his eyes water a bit and his tongue burn, but his teeth felt cleaner than he could ever remember so he figured it was worth it.

Wrinkling his nose as the water was turned on, Valentine pushed off the wall and fixed his shirt-dress. "I've got mice to hunt and breakfast to eat – one of the wrinkly things will tell you when it's time to eat."

"Bye," Harry called, frowning irritably when the werecat merely flapped a hand and disappeared from the room. He sighed at the cold dismissal and shucked his clothes, checking the temperature before getting into the shower. It was only as he was pouring some liquid soap onto a face-cloth that he realised where he was and what exactly he was doing.

He was at the Manor. Lucius' house. Using one his showers. Washing with his soap brand. And it felt so _right_.

Yes, he would've liked to have woken up in Lucius' bedroom and used his shower instead, but he was astounded at how easy it was to think of the Manor as his home when he had barely felt comfortable in Narcissa's flat despite being there for over a year. He didn't think he felt so entitled in his _parents'_ home!

Smiling bemusedly to himself, he continued with his morning routine.

**TBC...**


	3. The Talk II

**Chapter Three: The Talk II**

When Harry finished up his shower, he found an elf waiting patiently by his bed. Dipsy smiled toothily up at him, wrinkly face crinkling even more.

"Master Harry!" he squeaked. "It goods to have yous back!"

"Thank you, Dipsy," he smiled bemusedly. "Are you here to tell me about breakfast?"

"Yes! Dipsy must tell Master Harry to meet Master Lucius for breakfast in 'the usual place'!"

Blinking, Harry nodded and absently tightening his grip on the towel around his waist. "Thank you, Dipsy. I'll be there soon."

Bowing, Dipsy popped away but not before gesturing to the pile of clothes on the edge of the bed. Harry went over and sorted through it, finding a pair of charcoal-black slacks, a forest-green polo and a pair of loafers. Draco's clothes, he didn't doubt.

Dropping the towel, he dressed in the borrowed outfit and absently fixed his hair – meaning he ran a hand through it and didn't give it another thought. He straightened the room up, opened the bathroom windows to let out the lingering steam and then left his designated quarters to find Lucius' favourite dining room.

The Manor was as pleasant as always, music playing softly from somewhere and portraits chattering away to each-other. They quieted somewhat when he came into view, some like the late Lord Malfoy acknowledging him coolly while the others merely stared or pretended a half-blood wasn't walking freely in their house. A ghost passed as he was heading downstairs, curtseying to him with a flirty little wave. He thought her name might have been Juliet, a distant relative of Lucius'. Not many ghosts resided in the house, only about three in total, and they mostly stuck to one side of the manor so it was rare to see them more than once every few months.

Lucius was just sitting down when Harry entered. The room was light and open, large windows letting in curious amounts of sunlight as they looked out over the overly-green gardens. The four-seater table was set up with delicious smelling platters; coffee, tea and juice sitting a little to the side in their respective jug or pot.

"Mr Potter," Lucius greeted, not bothering to stand. He was dressed business-casual, hair loose around his shoulders that particular morning. The _Prophet_ was folded up one his right, seemingly unread.

"Lucius," he raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. He took the seat directly across from the Lord and absently lay a serviette over his lap. "Are you going out?"

"I have a few things to do at the Ministry," he replied, buttering a scone and spreading on some jam. Glancing up at him under pale lashes, he added, "I've arranged for Draco to accompany you to Diagon Alley.

Pausing in his own preparations, Harry narrowed his eyes. "For what?"

"Clothes, foolish boy," Lucius rolled his eyes. "You have your vault key, yes? Since that's apparently all you thought to bring, you'll be needing your own clothes and any other necessities."

"I couldn't very well send a suitcase over beforehand," Harry grumbled, stuffing toast into his mouth. Chewing thoughtfully, he supposed he would need to get a few things…

"No matter, you'll be going shopping. That reminds me – what exactly do your parents know?"

"I told them I was travelling," he said, shrugging uncomfortably and unable to meet his eyes. "I've visited and owled them, so they haven't been too hard to deal with…"

"And they just let you go with such vague details?"

"It's not as if they have a choice. I completed my education and Sirius and Remus also did a bit of travelling after school. I'm not financially dependent on them either, so they can't threaten to cut me off."

"Where does your money come from then?" Lucius asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You've just graduated Hogwarts last spring, what kinds of jobs could you have gotten?"

Harry thought his face might have been on fire it was so hot. He busied himself with his eggs and bacon, filling his mouth and refusing to meet the other's questioning gaze. Eventually though, he had to answer and he mumbled, "I've done a few odd jobs here and there…"

Lucius said nothing despite his buzzing curiosity and suspicion. Harry was glad – he would take the things Narcissa had made him do for an allowance to the grave. They continued breakfast in a surprisingly comfortable silence, Lucius perusing the newspaper as he ate and Harry merely enjoying the pleasant atmosphere. He watched his lover-to-be as discreetly as he knew, taking in gorgeous white-blonde hair and stormy-grey eyes. Bow-shaped lips pursed every now and then in thought, pink tongue peeking out to wet his lips or catch crumbs.

So distracted by his mouth, he didn't notice when Lucius lost interest in the business-section and started looking back at him. "Having fun?"

Blinking owlishly, Harry was confused for a moment before understanding dawned with a wave of embarrassment. He refused to drop his eyes, however much he wanted to. "Immensely."

An amused smile lightened his usually stern expression, but it fell a moment later and Lucius straightened up. He pushed the newspaper away and folded his hands on the table-top. "We need to talk."

Harry felt his heart stutter slightly and sighed, nodding. He didn't particularly like the calculating look in those cool eyes, but at least he wasn't making light of the situation. If anything, Harry didn't want their potential relationship be taken as a joke.

Lucius was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He took a sip of tea, absently stirring in half a spoonful of sugar before bringing it back up for another taste. Swallowing delicately, he fixed Harry with a hard look. "I think we should start by you saying exactly what you want to achieve. You said you want companionship – marriage – but I think it's quite obvious that will not be happening anytime soon."

"I do want marriage," he said slowly, briefly chewing on the inside of his cheek as he tried to think of how to express himself. "Eventually, of course. Right now, I just want to…date? Get to know each-other, see if there is potential for a long-term commitment. I have sort of forced myself on you and we've skipped a lot of stages by my staying here, but I couldn't think of any other way for you to take this seriously…"

"An owl wouldn't have sufficed?"

"I thought recreating our first official meeting was very romantic, thank you very much," Harry mumbled, glaring at him under his fringe.

Lucius tapped a manicured nail against the side of his tea-cup, eyes drifting to the side as he thought. "So…courting? You want to go for meals together, gifts and outings?"

Blinking, Harry considered this. "I suppose…if that's what you want."

"Whether or not I want that is not applicable at this point," Lucius pointed out. "We're talking about _you_."

Feeling brave, Harry nodded and met his eyes directly. "Then yes, I want that. Maybe not the gifts so much…but dinner and quality time together. I, er…I'd also like to ask that during this timeframe in which we are 'dating' that we stay exclusive."

"That sounds fair," he allowed. "And you'd stay here, at the Manor?"

"I could go somewhere else," Harry started to say uncertainly, but was cut off by an annoyed glare. "Yes," he said, rolling his eyes. "I want to stay here."

"Alright," Lucius said. "You want to stay here, and…'date' exclusively. What are your intentions about a physical relationship?"

"Er…what? Like sex and stuff?"

Raising an eyebrow at his awkwardness, the blonde looked as if he were fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "I mean, are you coming at this with the thought of having an immediate physical relationship and then getting to know each-other, or do you want to date and then at a later point become intimate?"

"…um. The second one?" Harry was _very_ confused. "Why would I want to have sex first? We barely know each-other."

"No matter how much you deny it, you _are_ still a child, Potter," Lucius said, looking vaguely amused. Ignoring the way he bristled, scowling, he continued with a honey-laced: "You must still be a virgin, too. How sweet."

"Well excuse me for not fucking everything on two legs!" Harry hissed, sinking down in his chair and feeling a bit like when Hermione had to explain what a virgin even was. "Maybe I want it to mean something!"

"I never said that was a bad quality," Lucius smiled, eyes softening somewhat and effectively taking his breath away.

"Don't be mean to me," Harry whispered sulkily, crossing his arms and looking away. Briefly, he pondered the idea of Lucius reaching across to ruffle his hair or caress his cheek, but alas the table was too wide. He did, however, feel something slide up his calf. Wide eyes snapped up, but Lucius wasn't even looking at him. A calculated move, he was sure. After a moment of semi-awkward silence, Harry huffed a sigh and asked, "Well?"

"Hmm?"

"What do _you_ want to achieve from this?" Harry enquired somewhat mockingly.

"Well, I have nothing to lose in the best case scenario," Lucius said serenely. "I'm fine with wooing you and it'd be interesting to see you every-day, though I must ask that you make sure no-one thinks I've kidnapped you."

Frowning slightly, he uncrossed his arms and leaned forwards. "Meaning, you'd be fine with…sex, immediately?"

"I didn't say that," Lucius scoffed. "I don't sleep with everything on two legs, Potter."

"But you just—"

"In the _best_ _case_ _scenario_ I have nothing to lose."

"…I don't see the difference," Harry said accusingly.

Lucius stood, gathering his newspaper and putting his napkin on the table next to his empty plate. "Well, since we're both on the same page, I must be off. Draco will fetch you at around eleven – and do make sure people see you by yourself, Potter. If I were to kidnap someone, I wouldn't let them out of the house without a guard."

Lucius was long gone when Harry muttered, "Slytherins…"

**TBC…**


	4. Dreams

**Chapter Four: Dreams**

Yawning, Harry grumbled to himself as he slumped back to 'his' room. He had a few hours to kill before Draco would apparently arrive and had decided to laze around. Until he realised something very important.

_He had the Manor to himself!_

Draco more often than not stayed over at Snape's for his training – or so he had heard in his letters – Lucius was gone and the House-Elves were all busy with their respective jobs. Grinning, he spun on his heel and changed destinations. With no-one there to tell him off, he could explore to his heart's content.

The portraits hissed and growled at him as he passed, some even mumbling 'mudblood' under their breath. He wasn't concerned – it had never particularly bothered him and it certainly wasn't going to start now. They were _dead_ for merlin's sake!

"Mr Potter, is it?" a cool voice intoned as he came around a familiar corner into a _very_ familiar hallway. Slowing, he glanced up and searched briefly before finding the right portrait. The stern-faced young man looked no older than a Seventh Year, white-blonde hair tumbling around his shoulders and Prefect badge shining proudly on his chest.

"Lord Malfoy," he said uncertainly, brow furrowing. The painting had been moved, hanging further into the passage and away from the family quarters. Almost like a guard.

Abraxas raised an eyebrow, peering down at him from the gold-hilted frame. "Please, call me Abraxas – or 'sir', anyway. I never did like my title."

"Oh?" Harry replied.

"No," he said softly, giving Harry an unreadable look. "I wasn't supposed to inherit the Manor, either. But I'm sure you know that."

Harry didn't, but supposed it didn't require a response. He was starting to feel uncomfortable with those faded-blue eyes drilling into him and stuttered out an excuse, backing away.

Naturally, he ended up outside Lucius' rooms. He felt vaguely guilty – he was entering his space without permission – but really now, if you didn't want anyone in your room then you needed some kind of security system. He pushed the door open, waiting a moment for something to happen before shutting it behind him and taking in the sitting-area.

It didn't look much different from his previous stay, though he thought the wallpaper may have been replaced. Wandering through he ran a hand over the furniture and walls, breathing in the slightly musky scent that usually clung to Lucius' clothing. His werecat status had upped his senses and he often found himself assigning certain smells to certain people.

His parents smelt of perfume, old books, broom polish and masculinity respectively, Remus of chocolate and fatigue and Sirius of Firewhisky and the dull irony trace of old blood. Narcissa often wore a spicy-sweet perfume that masked the cool peppermint of her natural scent. Draco was ever-changing, much to his surprise. Ink, dust and warmth; potions fumes; raw silk; homemade cookies and something like…citrus?

And then, of course, his absolute _favourite_: vanilla ice.

It was the scent of his dreams; wafting through the landscapes of his mind and more often than not accompanying a rather impressive snow-leopard. He – Luce, as he had nicknamed him – liked to catch up to Harry when he was in his cat form, absolutely enormous next to his pathetic frame and droopy ears. Luce liked to push him around; nudging him in the side with a cool nose and swiping deftly for his paws, stretching his lips back in a scarily-comforting parody of a grin when Harry complained in little _rowls_.

Eventually Luce would settle under some randomly-placed tree, idly pawing at him as he rubbed his flank along snowy fur before curling up in the small gap between his neck and shoulder. It was a tight squeeze, but warm and familiar.

Those dreams were always the hardest to wake up from – at least when he was still with Narcissa. Now that he didn't have to pine quite so much, he could not worry about the content of his dreams anymore.

Cracking open Lucius' bedroom-door, he snuck a glance around the dim interior before creeping in, shutting the door and twisting the key – pretty and tied with a worn black ribbon, stuck in the back lock – so no-one else would chance upon him unannounced. Leaning back against the cool wood, he glanced around the room. It looked almost exactly the same, save for different bed-sheets and a few more pillows than he remembered.

Lurching forward, Harry kicked off his shoes in a hurry and launched himself onto the bed. Moaning happily, he crawled up to the pillows and buried his face in the scented material, sucking in a deep, deep breath. The musky scent of strawberries immediately assaulted his senses, making him feel slightly faint.

Enclosed in the familiarity of it all, he was visiting oblivion in seconds.

* * *

><p><em>There wasn't a hairs-breadth between them, skin flush and eyes locked in an equally heated gaze. He curled a hand in corn-silk hair, gently guiding their faces closer and brushing his nose over a firm jaw.<em>

_"Again?" _

_He smiled bemusedly at the dry tone, tilting his head back and pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. It was over in seconds and he flopped onto his back, throwing his arm up over his head and tilting his neck to the side invitingly._

_"Always."_

**TBC…**


	5. Enter Draco Malfoy!

**Chapter Five: Enter Draco Malfoy!**

When Draco arrived at the Manor, Harry wasn't to be seen. He glanced at his watch and saw that he was early, though he didn't think Potter could have been doing anything important. He had only arrived the day before – his father had said, anyway – and he didn't have anything with him so he was either exploring or…hopefully not ruining the place.

Sighing, Draco set off on a hunt. He had already been feeling a bit stressed since his latest assignment wasn't going as well as both he and Snape had hoped and now Harry had finally made his move. Without even telling him! Fucker.

His mother had sent him an owl letting him know, but his father was quicker. Both letters were vague, using the name 'Tempest' instead of 'Harry' or 'Potter' in case it was intercepted. Draco didn't think people were watching their mail, but his parents were both paranoid and he wasn't cruel enough to just brush it off.

He had kept cordial contact with his ex-enemy for the rest of their Hogwarts days, though that didn't mean they were instant best friends. They had a lot of history and it wasn't hard to forget when everyone was so…_vocal_ about them suddenly not wanting to kill each-other. They didn't fight [as much] however and after convincing everyone _they weren't dating thank you very much_ – Blaise had been kind enough to play House with him – things seemed to settle down and they graduated in peace. They had briefly discussed their future plans with each-other and had gone their separate ways, Harry going off to stay with his mother and him starting an apprenticeship under Snape.

He saw his father often and it wasn't hard to see he was starting to give up on the whole 'lover' thing. There had been a period after Harry left when he didn't go out at all, as if he wasn't allowed to, but then he suddenly started back up again and was having dinner or going on dates with random men and woman from all over. It was pretty harmless, Draco had done the same in the summers before school started up again, but he had been concerned for a long while that Harry might end up being absolutely crushed with rejection. In the last year his father had started to slow down, still going out occasionally but most likely for business and not pleasure. He just hoped Harry had been accepted because of genuine interest and not boredom.

He didn't want to think such things about his own father; that he was capable of being so cruel…but you never know. It's not as if he was concerned for Potty, though! He just didn't want to be effected if it ever went public.

Yeah, that's it…

Draco was about to give up and just go back to studying when he had a brilliant but disturbing thought. He had looked practically everywhere and had even asked an elf if they knew where Potter had gone off to, but they hadn't known anything other than that he had headed back in the direction of the bedrooms after breakfast.

…could Harry be in his father's quarters?

Not even he was allowed in there! As a child his father would let him sleep in his bed if he had a nightmare, but he had been determined not to be a 'baby' and hadn't been back since he was like seven. Entering was like…a _taboo_.

As you may have guessed, this only excited Draco more. He was a sucker for an adrenaline rush and one of his favourite past-times was sneaking into warded-off rooms in the Manor and trying to get out without his parents knowing. A part of him hoped to Merlin Harry wasn't actually in there, but he had a feeling that was exactly what he'd find.

He tried to look as natural as possible when he passed his grandfather's portrait, but he didn't think he succeeded if the raised eyebrows and knowing look was anything to go by. Grumbling to himself, he hesitated briefly outside the main door before sighing with a silent 'what the fuck?'

He twisted the handle and peeked inside, frowning when he saw the sitting-room was empty. It looked much the same as it had when he was little, though there were a few changes. He closed the door behind him and crossed the room, taking in the sophisticated decorating and bookcases filled to the brim with all sorts of stories, guides and manuals.

Reaching out for the bedroom door, it took a few jiggles and confusion before he realised it was locked.

"POTTER! YOU BETTER NOT BE WANKING IN THERE!"

* * *

><p>Harry awoke with a jolt, bolting upright. A few pillows tumbled off the side of the bed and he groaned at the crick in his neck, rubbing it as he glanced around the room.<p>

"Oh _shit_!" he hissed under his breath, stumbling off the bed and hurriedly throwing the pillows back on. He had moved around a lot in his sleep, duvet hanging off the side of the mattress. He heard the lock jingling and panicked, but relaxed when he realised it was only Draco.

_Only_ Draco! He thought, snorting softly. He hurriedly turned the key, completely unaware of what he looked like and at that moment, not caring.

"What the fuck?!" Draco immediately demanded, pushing him aside to look into the room. He took in the messy bed and looked back to his mussed appearance, eyebrows rising and lips pressing into a thin line.

"Hi," Harry said, clearing his throat. He ran his hands through his hair, grimacing at what it must have looked like. "…is it time to go?"

"I don't know what the hell you thought you were doing, but I doubt he'd be happy to know you were snooping while he was out."

"I wasn't _snooping_!" Harry protested. "I was just…sleeping."

"Sleeping."

"_Sleeping_! It's not much better in the creep-department, but I was just…you know, being creepy, and I fell asleep."

"Whatever. Get ready and meet me in the parlour," Draco scowled, herding him out of the room and closing the door. He called for Dipsy to clean up and practically tossed him from Lucius' quarters. "Go! I have better things to do than taking your arse shopping!"

"Then why are you?!" Harry retorted, annoyed. He was still feeling a bit sleepy and Draco was acting like a twat – as usual.

"Because Dad asked me to, idiot! Unsupervised, who knows what ridiculous things you'd try to buy and bring into the house?"

"Whatever," Harry grumbled, not feeling up to arguing. He headed back to his room and stumbled into the bathroom, brushing the tangles from his hair and gargling some mouthwash to get rid of the stale taste in his mouth. He straightened his clothes with a handy charm Narcissa had taught him and grabbed his vault-key.

"Ready," he said unnecessarily when he came into the parlour. "Where are we going? Diagon Alley?"

"Yes. I'll go first," Draco said tartly, grabbing a handful of Floo Powder and tossing it into the fireplace. He disappeared into the flames and Harry pulled a face at his back, feeling a sense of childish satisfaction.

He went next and came out nearly unscathed, caught at the last moment by Draco. A few people stared and whispered, but they ignored them and waved to Tom on their way out of the Leaky Cauldron. The streets were a bit crowded, small children screaming and running around with their parents running after them or completely ignoring them.

"We should go to Madam Malkin's," Draco said thoughtfully, apparently done with being an arse. "And then there's this new place that opened up last month…Pansy told me about it, said it was awesome."

"Madam Malkin's?" Harry frowned. "What do we need from there?"

"Robes!" Draco said, giving him a 'duh' look. "And you can get custom-made things too…but first, we need money. So hop along and get to Gringotts."

"Alone?" Harry wasn't _whining_, he was just…sad he couldn't be in the presence of his friend for that timeframe.

"How old are you? Go, shoo! I'll be looking around."

* * *

><p>Waiting for his turn at Gringotts was pretty boring. Harry sighed, wishing he could just get the shopping trip over-with already – he hated it at the best of times and he didn't doubt Draco would want to look at everything and only buy a little.<p>

He should have just had Narcissa send over his stuff…speaking of which, couldn't she have done that without prompting? He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. He supposed she didn't _have_ to since he wasn't working for her anymore…but still!

"Harry?"

He looked up, wide-eyed as a familiar voice floated in his direction. He glance over his shoulder and saw Ginny standing there, a look of astonishment on her face. She was at his side instantly, ignoring the irritated groans of other patrons.

"Harry!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. He was immediately assaulted with the scent of…he didn't even know, but it was strong and it made his eyes water. He supposed it was meant to be some kind of perfume. Maybe some kind of wild-flower?

"Where have you been?!" she demanded, pulling back to glare at him fiercely. "We haven't seen you in _ages_ and suddenly you're here in Gringotts!"

"I've been travelling, Ginny," he said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He had had the same conversation with Hermione about a hundred times – every time he stopped by to visit her, anyway. "I'm back now, though. I'll come visit everyone soon."

"Who are you with?" Ginny frowned, peering around. "If you're getting money, you're most likely going shopping."

"I'm with…Malfoy," he admitted. "He's taking me clothes shopping…"

"…Draco Malfoy is taking you clothes shopping."

"Yup. He has a great style, you know. Really modern and cool."

"What are you _really_ doing?"

"I'm really clothes shopping with Malfoy, Gin. We exchange letters and he said he was going out and I said I'd join him."

Harry supposed he should have been more concerned about how easily the lie came out, though after spending every day with Narcissa it wasn't all that surprising. She was a top-marked manipulator and he had picked up a few things.

"…Harry, you're not dating him, are you?"

He laughed, quieting down when her eyes flashed in irritation. He fixed a smile on his face, holding back inappropriate giggles at the irony of it all. "No, I'm not. We're just friends…to be honest, I'm just using him for his style."

She relaxed and laughed, and it was Harry's turn to get money from his vault. "Come visit really soon!" she practically warned before waving and heading back to do whatever it was she had come for.

Harry promised and waved back, turning to follow the goblin who had been assigned to help him.

Gringotts was still pretty boring.

**TBC…**


	6. Of Shopping and Gossiping

**Chapter 6: Of Shopping and Gossiping**

When Harry finally made it back to Draco half an hour had passed. He found him browsing some kind of accessories store and sighed before going in, wrinkling his nose a bit at the excessive perfume in the air.

"Did you get it?"

"Hello to you too," Harry grumbled, tapping the pocket where he had hidden his money-pouch. "What are you doing?"

"Just browsing," Draco replied, looking way too happy if you asked Harry. Squinting at him a bit, he put down whatever he was looking at and steered him out the door. "Come on, let's go to Madam—oh gross, what is that smell?"

Harry blinked, glancing up at him before his cheeks went a little red and he brushed off his shirt self-consciously. "Oh, that must be Ginny's perfume."

"Weasley? What the fuck, Potter?"

"Don't look at me like that! I saw her at the bank, that's all. She hugged me—we haven't seen each other in months, you prick—and it must have rubbed off on me. Great, now I smell like an overgrown daisy…"

"That's an insult to daisies," Draco deadpanned. "That is rancid. Here," he took out his wand, waving it once and muttering something before slipping it back into his sleeve.

"What did you do?" Harry frowned, not feeling any different. And then the smell hit him. It was almost _too_ pleasant, tickling his nose and sliding along his tongue like silk – and not in the weird, makes-you-gag kind of way either. It smelt like Lucius.

"Spell my father taught me," Draco said distractedly, pulling open the door to Madam Malkin's and ushering him inside. "Really useful if you've been stuck in the lab and unable to bathe for a while."

"Oh, too much information," he wrinkled his nose, grinning when Draco rolled his eyes. Madam Malkin was busy with another customer so they waited by the door, studying the materials on display and the price-list – not that they really needed to worry about that.

"Oh, Mr Potter! Back from your travels?" Madam Malkin said, just noticing them. "And Mr Malfoy too – you're not going to start trouble in my store, are you boys?" she asked sternly.

"No, no," Harry assured. "We're here together, actually. Draco's helping me pick out clothes."

"Oh, that's lovely of him!" she said, a little surprised but obviously pleased. "Hop on up onto the platform while I ring up Ms White. Anything for yourself, Mr Malfoy?"

"Not today, I don't think," Draco replied. "Would it be alright if I had a look at your robes in the back?"

"Go on through, darling. The ones you're probably looking for are on the right."

Harry did as told, absently watching Draco as he pushed the curtains aside and sidled into the room attached. There were rows and rows of premade robes and suits, sorted by category. Draco took her advice, still in sight when he stopped in front of a rail holding midnight blue, grey and black robes that looked similar to something Snape might wear. Harry blinked, just then noticing that Draco wasn't wearing his apprentice-robes – normally of a dark grey colour. He was dressed in simple trousers and a crisp white shirt with a soft green sweater on top.

"Anything specific, darling?" Madam Malkin asked, tape-measure hovering by her side. Harry ripped his eyes away from his friend, opening his mouth before realising he didn't actually know what he was supposed to be getting.

Draco saved the day, wandering back into the main room. "Three sets of everyday robes in neutral colours, two formal sets in whatever colour he prefers and a thick winter coat."

"Owl post is fine, I presume?"

"Have it sent to the Manor," Draco said airily, briefly catching Harry's eyes. If Madam Malkin was surprised or upset at the implications of Harry's things being mailed to Malfoy Manor, she was awfully good at hiding it. She got to work immediately, humming under her breath as she measured him and matched the most flattering colours for him.

Eventually they were done and Harry stepped down to pay, taking out thirty Galleons. He was a bit iffy at the price, but knew it was for quality materials and excellent work. He had barely said goodbye when Draco was dragging him out the door, muttering about shoes.

He hoped Lucius wasn't this excited about buying clothing…but he wasn't holding his breath.

* * *

><p>"So, Potter, you and Dad fuck yet?"<p>

Harry swallowed his Butterbeer in one big gulp, eyes flying wide and lungs burning as it went down the wrong pipe. He coughed and spluttered, nearly hacking up a kidney before Draco rolled his eyes and leaned over to slap him on the back. He coughed wetly and wiped his mouth, eyes watering a bit.

"What. The. _Fuck_!" he hissed, _very_ conscious of the curious eyes locked on their little corner of the pub.

Draco raised an eyebrow, raising his tumbler of Firewhisky in a toast. "A virgin, huh? How cute."

"Oh for—you're just like your father," he glared half-heartedly, cheeks on fire. He ducked his head and nibbled on the edge of his sandwich, trying to ignore the funny clenching in his gut. Draco seemed to notice his sudden melancholy and frowned a bit.

"I was just teasing, Potter."

"Whatever," he muttered. Then, "…being a virgin isn't that strange, is it?"

Raising his eyebrows, Draco seemed to consider this. He wound some pasta around his fork as he thought, absently taking a bite and chewing slowly. "Well, I suppose not. Back when my parents were kids it was still common to wait until marriage, so some people nowadays still do that…but mostly, people are having sex in school or after Graduation – you know, since Arranged Marriages are so rare now and that whole 'pure for your wedding-night' bullshit has been down-sized."

"You don't believe in that?" Harry said, a little surprised. "The whole wait until you're married thing, I mean."

He had heard rumours at Hogwarts about what a 'great lay' Draco was and that he was a bit of slag with the Slytherins, but he knew more than anyone not to take rumours too seriously.

"Not particularly," he shrugged, his tone vague. "I never really got the point, and my parents never tried to enforce it on me."

"So…you're not a virgin?" Harry asked, feeling a little silly but curious all the same. He knew some people were really stuffy about sex, but since Draco had started the conversation…

"Nope," Draco said, winking. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, "I lost my virginity towards the end of Sixth Year. Really disappointing, by the way. Sex isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"Oh," he winced, sympathising. He had heard the same thing from multiple people, one of the reasons why he was hesitant to just do it. He supposed if you really loved the person you could make the best of it. Though, concerning Lucius, he had a hard time thinking _that_ experience would be bad or unsatisfactory. "Girl or guy?"

"_Nosy_," Draco laughed, but he didn't seem bothered at all. He took a sip of his drink and popped a baby tomato from his side-salad into his mouth, fixing him with a leering gaze. "Girl, the first time – well, I've actually only had proper sex with girls. I've done stuff with some guys, but never gone all the way. But anyway: she was an older Ravenclaw. It was…weird, to be completely honest with you. She was convinced I was the best she had ever had and I was convinced that she had been sniffing some potions' ingredients."

"Oh, _harsh_," Harry laughed. He was a bit surprised at how easy the subject was to talk about with Draco, Ron always went a funny shade of red whenever it was brought up, but he definitely wasn't uncomfortable.

"But what about you? Squeaky clean, or are you just a penetration virgin?"

Flushing a bit, Harry shrugged. "The furthest I've ever gone is an awkward blowjob in a dodgy loo. Didn't really try again after that."

"Oh, _ew_," Draco wrinkled his nose. "It was bad, I'm guessing?"

"He didn't speak English," Harry admitted, grinning behind his hand.

Draco's surprised laughter distracted him from the shocked eyes staring at them from the entrance of the pub.

**TBC…**


	7. Numbers Were Here

**Chapter 7: 2 – 1 = 3 [+1]**

Harry knew he should have expected it – really now, how stupid could he have been?! Regardless, he and Draco nearly jumped out of their skin when breathy whispers slithered into their ears.

"What's this now—"

"—our little brother and a Malfoy—"

"—sitting, eating lunch together like old friends—"

"—when we haven't even set eyes on him since Christmas?"

"Fred! George!" Harry glared, clutching a hand to his thumping heart. His face flooded colour, though they weren't nearly as bad as the tomatoes Draco called cheeks. He looked particularly horrified, eyes wide like a rabbit who had caught the attention of a nasty predator.

"He's Fred!" - "He's George!"

"And I'm Harry!" he rolled his eyes. "Don't try to confuse us, I already know who's who."

The twins grinned and flopped down on either side of the booth, George casually slinging an arm around Draco's shoulder as his brother nicked his plate to see if anything was edible. Harry winced, about to suggest they back off when he was suddenly yanked out of his seat.

"HARRY!"

"Hermione?!" he gasped, regretting it immediately when the air was crushed out of him. His mouth was full of hair and his throat burned as her prettier, but no less potent perfume-scent was forced into his lungs. He hugged her back half-heartedly, absently wondering if his face was going blue yet. It must have, for she suddenly let go and smiled sheepishly up at him. "You're back!"

He cut in before she could get accusing, patting her shoulder and grinning. "Yeah, for good this time. I don't think I'll be travelling anymore for a while."

"Really? That's great! You _have_ to come have dinner with Ron and me!"

"We could all meet up at the Burrow," he suggested. "I ran into Ginny earlier and I promised her I'd come over soon…I think…I was a little distracted – we were in Gringotts."

She frowned lightly, brow burrowing ever-so-slightly. "But Harry, you've been gone ages! We haven't had a normal conversation in forever. I was thinking it could just be the three of us…"

He winced, knowing she was right and that they really did need to get back to being best mates. It was difficult though, when he was living at the Manor and them not even knowing where he had been the last year. He wanted to trust them, but couldn't guarantee they wouldn't run to his parents with stories about him finally losing it.

"Of course," he said, "I'm still…moving back, you know, so I'll owl you, okay?"

"Yes, sure," she said, beaming. She rolled her eyes then, glancing over his shoulder and out the pub window. "Ron is mooning ov—_oh my god, what are they doing_?!"

Startled, Harry spun on his heel. Gaping, he was just barely able to repress a _very_ unmanly squeak. "Draco!" he hissed, not sure whether to be concerned or to cheer him on.

Fred seemed to have chosen the latter, making strange whooping sounds as his brother – his startled, but not unpleased brother – practically rut against Draco as they enthusiastically sucked face.

"FRED!" Hermione shouted.

"Oh, come off it," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's just a little experiment from the shop…must've rubbed off on Gred."

Harry didn't have a good feeling about this. Hurrying forward, he ripped Draco off of George and tried to pull him back, only to be latched onto instead! Luckily missing his mouth, Draco latched onto his neck and started kissing and sucking as if they hadn't just been talking about Harry potentially fucking his father.

People were staring and pointing, a few giggling behind their hands. The twins laughed it off, a little red in the face, but neither Harry nor Hermione were amused. Neither would be Draco, once he snapped out of it!

"Draco—"

"You taste like berries," Draco mumbled against his jaw, before suddenly collapsing in his arms. Harry just barely caught him, nearly staggering into the table beside them as he struggled to hold him up-right.

"That's not supposed to happen," Fred mused. "Think it was too strong, hm Forge?"

"We should leave out the—"

"Alright, nothing to see here!" Hermione growled, waving her wand and threatening memory charms at the other patrons – mostly regulars, who knew not to mess with her or anything to do with the Malfoy name – who grumbled and groaned but looked away and went back to their lunches. "Fred, George! What the hell was that?!"

"Just a little lust potion," they said in union, shrugging. "It was a bust with our test-subjects though…"

"Whatever, I need to get him home before he wakes up," Harry said hurriedly, already dragging his sorta-friend towards the exit. "I'll owl you, Hermione!"'

"What about us?" the twins cried, hurt.

"Oh, you haven't seen Draco mad. When he comes after your worthless arses, I'm gonna be on his side!" Harry grinned, waving mockingly before spinning on the spot and Apparating to the gates of Malfoy Manor.

Only hours later, right before Lucius was due home would he check his neck for hickeys. Oh dear…if that wasn't the face of an angry daddy-ferret if he ever saw one…

**TBC…**

* * *

><p>Can anyone guess the meaning of the equation? ;) [It actually had more relevance when I started writing...this chapter didn't go as planned but I hope you enjoy anyway...]<p> 


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